


Heart Of A Villain

by Tilltheendwilliwrite



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Cults, Dark Magic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Evil, F/M, Hate to Love, I apologize if it's incorrect, Irish slang that may or may not be correct, Loss of a child., Mentions of Rape, Sensitive Things, almost a sacrifice, dark themes, potentially dark story, trigger warning, тэг заменён на Don't copy to another site
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2020-10-10 20:04:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20533814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tilltheendwilliwrite/pseuds/Tilltheendwilliwrite
Summary: Based on the prompt: The hero shows up at the villain's doorstep one night. They're shivering, bleeding, scared. There's also a slightly dazed look in their eyes- they were drugged. They look like they were assaulted. Looking up at the villain, swaying slightly as they're close to passing out, they mumble "didn't know where else to go..." then collapse into the villain's arms.Even though they were teammates, Scarlett O'Connell was not his biggest fan, so when she showed up in the dark of night on his doorstep, wet, dishevelled, broken, Loki was understandably surprised. When she woke after collapsing in his arms to describe a night of terror in which someone stole her magic in a manner most foul, leaving her broken on an altar to some dark creature, he knew to be on his guard. For he'd never known a 'sacrifice' to walk away alive.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bolontiku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bolontiku/gifts).

> I was challenged by @bolontiku to see what I could come up with for Loki. Challenge accepted, darling.
> 
> PLEASE BE AWARE OF THE WARNINGS! 
> 
> Warnings: Sensitive themes, possibly triggering description of rape, attempted sacrifice, angst, cults, stolen magic. Dark themes. Potentially dark story.

* * *

The knocking was so light, Loki almost ignored it, but when Felicitous made a beeline for the door - an oddity in itself as his cat typically disliked people in general - he followed at a sedate pace.

Outside the night was dark and storming, almost as if his brother were angry, but then Thor was not on this world. Not now. Not in some time.

He peeked through the window but could make out only a dishevelled, wet, sodden mess of a person huddled against his door. He almost walked away, the person likely drunk and lost, looking to use his phone. He rolled his eyes and made to leave, but his cat twined herself between his legs, rubbing on his ankles before purring and brushing her whole body along the door.

Intrigued, he relented, opened the door, and stepped back in case the person fell inward. They did not, somehow catching themselves in time, leaving him mildly impressed.

Still, he sneered at them, "May I help you?" Long, bedraggled hair covered their face, but when they looked up, Loki's heart gave a funny leap. "You!" But something was wrong. She looked... odd around the eyes. Then, he began to see more.

A bruise was forming along her temple. Blood trickled from her lip. Her clothing torn and shoes were missing. She held herself like a fragile creature, close to shattering, splintering into shards.

"... didn't know where else to go..." she murmured, her Irish brogue soft and liting. She swayed, those glassy eyes rolled back, and her knees began to buckle.

Loki caught her, wet clothing and all before she could crumple to the marble tiles of his foyer. He could see the handprints now. The bruises marked into the pale flesh of her arms. See the hank of hair that had been yanked from her scalp still tangled with the rest, caught by pins that once supported her hairdo.

When he lifted her slight frame, her coat fell open to expose the bite mark on her breast, covered only by the dark purple lace of her bra.

Anger, unlike any he could remember, roared to life. "Who did this to you?" He would see they paid for every mark on her flesh.

When she didn't stir, he put his questions aside to take her upstairs, ignoring the cat purring and meowing at him, rising on her hind legs to get a closer look at the woman.

She was Scarlett O'Connell, a recruit to the Avengers because of her traditional magic - magic she was very good at. But she'd taken one look at him and labelled him a villain for what he'd done in the past. There was no changing her mind or explaining. Her magic was used to protect and defend. Loki had used his to kill.

It went against her entire creed as a sorceress. They had stood at odds for a year, and no matter how often others had tried to explain what really happened, she wouldn't hear it.

She didn't like him and would not see reason. They fought, loudly and often, vocal to the point others would see them separated.

It came as a relief when Loki was finally granted the chance to move from the tower and establish a home in an upscale section of the city, giving him a reprieve from her anger.

To find her like this, on his doorstep was both a shock and a concern. Why him? Why his home?

He brushed the hair from her face after setting her on the guest bed. Felicitous jumped up beside her, curled at her shoulder, and purred loudly.

"Traitor," Loki muttered before going to run a bath.

He would have his answers from Miss O'Connell once she was back to herself.

***

Awareness came slowly. At first, Scarlett noticed the warmth, the soft sensation of floating, cocooned in a gentle hold. She felt safe, but there was pain in so many places gradually gaining her attention. A quiet voice murmured soothing sounds when she whimpered in distress. Then a hand cupped her cheek and her night came flooding back in rapid images. 

Scarlett screamed and thrashed, fighting for freedom, only to smack her arm on something solid. 

“Scarlett!”

Her eyes snapped open at her name, but her vision was blurred, and she continued to struggle. 

“If you do not stop, you will drown yourself, woman! I am trying to assist you!”

She stopped fighting, the voice familiar. The tone more so. “Lo-Loki?” she croaked. “What?” The room came into focus, an elegant bathroom of white and grey with dark gold fixtures. She blinked and looked at Loki. His face was very close and dripping water. 

“I believe that is my question to ask you. After all, you are in my house.”

It was then she realized she floated in a deep bath, his arm behind her supporting her in the water. Scarlett gasped, looked down, and sighed in relief. Wrapped in a towel, the straps of her bra were dark against her skin. 

“No matter what you think of me, I would not take advantage a of women in distress. You were freezing and... injured.”

She glanced at him and sat up, pulling her knees to her chest as Loki settled back on his heels and dried his hands. With his sleeves pushed up and top button undone it was the most dishevelled she'd ever seen him. “Thank you. For helping me.” 

He dismissed her with a shrug. “Hm. Are you going to tell me what happened?”

She turned her face away, struggling to put the pieces together. “I went on a date. I thought… I thought he was a nice man.” She'd met him through an online service, talked via text and email for days before agreeing to meet.

“Evidently not. Why did you allow him to hurt you?”

Scarlett snapped her head up, ready to scream at him for being insensitive, but he was looking at her with nothing but curiosity. “I… I haven't feckin clue. We had drinks at a club and… everything got hazy.”

He rose to his feet and held out his hand, indicating he would assist her from the bath. She took it and stood on shaky legs, holding the heavy damp towel with her free hand as the bath began to drain. 

Loki flicked his wrist, and another thick, dark green towel appeared, fluffy and dry. He held it out and arched a brow when she hesitated. "I'd prefer you did not drip all over my floors."

Heat flushed Scarlett's cheeks, but she let the towel fall and allowed him to wrap the dry one around her. Quick, efficient movements had her covered and his hand at her elbow to assist her from the tub. 

He led her to the sink, forcing her to realize how weak she was. Every step was painful. Stumbling. Her breathing grew erratic until he turned and lifted her into his arms without effort to set her beside the sink where a basket of medical aids waited. 

"I can do that," she murmured when he reached for the first satchel.

"As you can barely stand, and I have already seen all your injuries, you may as well let me assist while you tell me the rest."

She flinched. "Fine."

Loki stopped and hesitantly set his fingers on the back of her twisting hands. "No matter our differences, I do not think less of _ you _ for what happened tonight. Nothing done to you was your fault."

She gave a small nod of thanks, and he lifted his hand away. “We were enjoying a few drinks, doing some dancing, and then… everything was spinning. I wasn’t even close to being tipsy, but suddenly I was seeing things through a tunnel.” Her metabolism was high, more in keeping with the super soldiers than a human thanks to the flux of her magic. There was no way she’d gotten drunk that quickly. “I think… I think he drugged me.”

“I suspected the same,” Loki murmured, gently applying a cream to the bruises on her arm. Big, hand shape marks that made her shudder as dark images began to crowd into her skull. 

“There… there was a car… a van. Gods it was manky.” She could remember the smell. Death and decay. Filth that seemed to cling to her skin. “The building was even worse. Like something crawled out of a dead things arse and died after shitting itself.”

A small smile quirked his lips. “Descriptive.”

“It was brutal.” It was a smell she would never forget. Fresh images rose to replace the ones she pushed away, faster, brighter, hazed by drugs, and Scarlett began to shake. “Gods… oh, Gods.”

“Scarlett?” Loki murmured, dabbing ointment on her temple. 

“Oh, Gods… there was an alter… something, something dark.” The stone structure oozed evil. The smell of death came from the carcasses of sacrificed animals left skewered to the bones and antlers hanging above it. 

_Hands-on her upper arms_. “They held me down.” _More groping her thighs_. “Spread… spread me open.”

“Scarlett.”

She could barely hear him past the chanting in her memory. “So much blood dripping on me. So many hands touch- touching me!”

“Scarlett!” Loki barked. 

She snapped her head up, hot tears streaming down her face. “Oh, Gods… I’m going to be sick.” She almost fell from the counter to scramble for the toilet where she dry heaved, nothing in her stomach to lose. Still, she couldn’t stop reliving the horror. The hands. Mouths. Teeth. The burning pain between her legs. The chanting that hurt her ears and stabbed at her soul.

Sobs replaced heaves as she realized what had happened. “I was… I was… over and over!”

“Shh, Scarlett. I know.” Gentle hands smoothed down her hair and rubbed her back. 

Gentle wasn’t a word she associated with Loki. Hard. Sharp. Cunning. Those fit him well, but gentle never crossed her mind. Yet, here he was, his hands gentle when he lifted her from the ground and returned her to the bathroom sink.

“How?” she whimpered, never having felt so small and broken in all her life. 

He glanced at her and then away. “Your undergarments were missing, and there was… evidence.”

She gasped and forced her fist against her teeth to keep from screaming. 

Again his hand landed lightly on the one balled in her lap. “I healed what I could with magic and the bath salts you created for the team, and saw the events of tonight would have no unwanted consequences.”

“Thank you,” she forced past the lump in her throat. She was on birth control, but it was nice to be certain. 

“Scarlett." She looked up. "I must attend the wound on your breast, or if you are uncomfortable I can leave you to do it.”

She shook her head. “I… I don’t think I can look at it without seeing…”

“Of course. I’ll be quick.”

Scarlett released the tight grip she had on the towel, allowing it to gape enough for him to work on the injury that throbbed so painfully.

“Why did you come to me?” he asked softly, another word she never imagined associating with him. “The others would have raised hell seeing you this way.”

She closed her eyes, more tears leaking past tightly closed lids. “Because… when I realized what was happening, I tried to fight… I tried to use magic, but…” 

“But what?”

She laid a shaking hand on his chest. “They stole it from me,” Scarlett whispered, speaking the words aloud for the first time. 

His eyes snapped to hers and locked there. “What?”

As the shakes renewed, so did her tears. “It was like… something ate it. I could feel it tear away, rip right out of my soul as they rutted in me. After, when they thought I was still drugged, they left me alone, and I managed to find my way out, I think only by the grace of the Gods. It was bucketing down, but I hid, I don’t know how long in a trash heap before they were gone. Then everything got fuzzy again.” She accepted the tissue he offered and wiped her nose. “And then I was standing on your doorstep. I don’t even know how I got here.”

“Again, I ask why? Why me? You despise me.”

She blinked up at him, unable to fully comprehend the look in his eyes. “Because you understand magic better than anyone else and…” Scarlett swallowed thickly, unable to stop shaking. “I think they used me as some feckin sacrifice. The gobshites used my magic to feed… something. Something big. Something evil.”

“May I?” he asked, holding up his hands.

Scarlett nodded and braced herself for the harsh touch of his magic, but again he surprised her with the tenderness of the action when his magic moved gently through her, seeking any flicker to indicate there was something left.

“I could feel it hovering around me, trying to sniff me out with its minions after I escaped.”

“Can you feel it now?” he asked, his eyes glowing green. 

“Not since I left.”

“If I needed you to, could you take me back there?” 

“Tonight?” She never wanted to see that place again but understood why he was asking. 

“No. Tonight you need rest. Your wounds will take time to heal.” His magic winked out before he scooped her from the counter and carried her through the bath into a large bedroom. “You will stay here where I may check on you, and where we can be assured you will be safe.”

“I doubt they’ll be back, Loki.”

He turned down the sheets with one hand and set her on the bed. “I’ve left pajamas there,” he indicated the foot of the bed with a flick of fingers before striding for the door.

“Loki?” she called. He paused at the doorway. “Anything?”

He didn’t look back, but his head lowered. “No. I’m sorry. Your magic is gone, but I promise I will do everything in my power to find out who did this and why.” He quickly opened the door and slipped out, shutting it with a quiet click.

The fear she’d been fighting all night became a reality with a few short sentences.

Scarlett drew her legs up and collapsed to her side, crying heavily into her pillow. 

***

Loki stood head bowed beyond the door listening to her tears. 

How dare they? How dare they steal the woman’s magic and use her like she was nothing more than an object? They may not get along, but Loki would never treat his worst enemy as Scarlett had been this night. 

Once he’d removed her sodden clothing, he’d seen the extent of the damage. He frowned at the marks drawn in animal blood upon her skin as he’d placed her in the bath, and scowled at the filthy water pouring down the drain when he held her carefully to him before wrapping her in a towel and placing her back in the clean, warm bath of healing herbs.

He’d worked a comb through her long locks, as red as her name, to remove the tangles and evidence of her ordeal. Her clothes were gone, already vanished from sight. He would leave nothing about to remind her of what happened, but with the theft of her magic, he doubted she’d ever forget. 

Loki leaned his forehead against her door, ignoring the cat begging to be let in at his feet. Finally, he bent to pick her up, allowing Felicitous to headbutt his chin. “You may hate me, Scarlett, but on the honour of a God of Asgard and beneath the eyes of your Gods, I vow to find the ones who did this. And I will make them pay.”

He turned away, taking his cat with him, her purr a comfort to his fractious thoughts and worry about Scarlett. 

She may not think she needed his protection, but Loki had never known a sacrifice to be allowed to live. Their blood was always spilled. That she escaped this cult trying to do the Norns only knew what with her magic was a miracle. 

He intended to see she stayed alive, no matter what it took. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Sensitive themes, possibly triggering description of rape, attempted sacrifice, angst, cults, stolen magic. Dark themes. Potentially dark story. Loss of a child.
> 
> This chapter brought to you by a very generous anon. Thanks for your support, love.

* * *

Scarlett woke with a gasp from fitful dreams of gaping black maws and chanting, bites and scratches and more pain then she'd ever known. She startled when something soft brushed her cheek only to find a black cat curled on the pillow next to her. 

Yellow eyes blinked once, then slowly drifted shut, as if to say "Sleep. I am here. I watch."

But Scarlett's heart would not slow, and tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as more images from the night drifted into focus. 

She fought to distract herself by looking around, noting the light on in the bathroom where the door was partially ajar. It illuminated white, panelled walls and shelving filled with books and more books. By the size of the ceiling, she could tell it wasn't a large room, just big enough for a queen-size bed, nightstands, and when she rolled to look, a high backed chair with a shadow in it. 

When the shadow moved, she squeaked in fear and scrambled upright, slamming into the padded headboard. 

"Be at ease, Scarlett."

"Loki?"

He rose and came around to her side of the bed, where a glass of water and blue vial sat. He picked it up, popped out the stopper, and showed it to her. "For your pain."

Scarlett swallowed thickly but nodded, her heart rabbiting like crazy. He upended it into the glass and handed the water to her.

"Drink."

She took it, their fingers brushing, and brought her shaking hand to her lips. "Were you… watching over me?"

"Yes." He sat beside her.

"Why?"

"Because your trauma was great, and while I cannot completely stop the nightmares, I can temper them enough to let you rest."

She stared at him in astonishment. "How?"

"In the same way I can bear witness to your memories. Though I do not have to touch you to guard your mind."

Scarlett hadn't known that. She sipped her water, noting the tang of herbs that signalled the pain meds he'd added to it. 

Then, black as midnight, the cat she'd disturbed in her fright rubbed against her, nudging and scooting until it crawled in her lap and purred loudly.

Scarlett rubbed a soft ear. "Nice cat."

"You are fortunate. Felicitous doesn't like people. Oftentimes, she barely tolerates me. But you, she's been drawn to you since your arrival."

"Felicitous? Why would you name her that?"

A smile curled Loki's lips. "I was searching for a suitable name, something apt and right. Something felicitous."

Scarlett chuckled softly. "And it stuck."

"And it stuck."

"Never would have guessed you for a cat person," she murmured, petting the feline. 

"She adopted me shortly after I took possession here. A tiny kitten sitting on my back deck. When I went to see if she was injured, she walked in, climbed up on the kitchen island and pronounced herself home."

Scarlett smiled at him. "She's your familiar."

Loki snorted. "I'm no witch."

"No, your not, but you're a magic-user on a world notorious for providing magic users with animal companions."

"You do not have one."

Scarlett felt ice fill her veins. "And I never will now."

He said nothing. Loki made no platitudes; he gave her no false hope that her magic could return. They both knew it would be a lie if he did, but somehow his silence was more comfort than all the sympathy in the world.

"I feel like someone cut off my fecking arm, Loki. What the hell am I to do?"

"Sleep. Rest. Heal. The rest is for me to see too."

"You can't seriously think of going after them alone? That's bloody daft!"

"Until we know more, others will only get in my way."

She rolled her eyes. "Must you always be so boneheaded?"

"I believe the word is thick-skulled," he chuckled. "A term of endearment often employed by my mother."

She almost laughed until she remembered this was Loki. Loki, who started an invasion. Loki who destroyed entire portions of the city. Loki… who stole something precious from her.

She shut down. "Thank you for your help, but I don't need you watching over me."

"Scarlett?"

"Just go, Loki." She set the unfinished glass on the nightstand, snuggled back under the thick white duvet and turned her back on him. 

****

Loki sighed silently and stood to leave the room. For one brief moment, he thought they were making progress, and moving past her hatred of him. Then she shut down and kicked him out.

He made his way through the hall to his library, where he'd covered the desk with every reference to occult religion he had available to him. When he'd comforted her on the floor in the guest bathroom, he'd caught snippets of her trauma. Instead of focusing on the act, Loki concentrated on the symbols painted on her skin and the altar upon which she'd been bound.

He'd found similar symbols in a few of his books, but not the exact ones used in the ritual tonight. There was no telling yet what trouble these people were up to, though he had a theory.

A buzzing had him glancing at his phone. As it was four in the morning, it could only be one thing. 

"Yes?"

"Loki! Scarlett never came home-"

"She is here," he cut Natasha off.

"There? Why?"

He didn't take offence to her skepticism. They all knew Scarlett hated him, even if she never explained why. "I cannot get into the why at this time. Just know that she is safe and sleeping in my guest room."

Silence hung so long; he pulled the phone from his ear to see if she disconnected. 

"Did someone hurt her?"

"Natalia," he warned.

"Loki."

He sighed. "Until Scarlett gives me permission to speak on what befell her tonight, I must keep my own counsel."

"Oh, no…" she whispered. "Just tell me how bad?"

"It is… bad."

Her breath hitched.

"Do not come here. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. None of you will be received. She needs time, not pity. I will see to her." He hung up before she could speak, then turned off his phone.

When he looked up, Scarlett was standing in the doorway, tugging at her shirt. 

"Thank you."

Her haunted eyes made his chest ache. "Of course."

"I know I was mean just now, but… can you come back?" Tears welled and tracked down her cheeks. "I can feel it… creepin'… on my skin." She scratched at her arms, her gaze downcast but full of horror.

"The darkness?" He slipped around his desk and slowly stopped her hands from tearing at her skin. 

She nodded, closed her eyes, and dropped her head to his chest. "I wish they'd just killed me."

"No. No, you do not." Loki lifted her and returned her to her room. "You are stronger than that."

"I'm broken, Loki. I can't function."

"No one is asking you to function." He placed her sitting in bed and sat beside her. "Here." He handed her the glass of water. "Drink all of it. There is a sleep aid in it as well."

She took it almost by remote and downed the contents.

"I know I am your least favourite person, but permit me to assist you?" She glanced sideways at him. "Please?"

Scarlett gave a stilted nod.

"When I was a boy," he murmured, encouraging her to lie down. "I suffered from terrible nightmares. My mother would come in and sit with me and tell me stories of Asgard while working her fingers through my hair. If you will permit me?"

"You wanna tell me a story?"

Her brogue was thicker now, he noticed, with her exhaustion. At times it almost disappeared to nothing but a whisper of Irish in her words, but now it was heavy on her tongue. "If you wish. I was thinking more of this." He lifted his hand slowly to her head and gently ran his fingers over her scalp. One slow pass became two with small circles as Scarlett instantly relaxed.

"Story?"

He smirked when she didn't open her eyes. "Once, long ago, Thor lost his hammer. In order to get it back, I had to put him in a dress and pass him off as the bride."

Her eyes popped open. "What!?"

He chuckled. "No story if your eyes are open."

"But you and your brilliant massage-y fingers are gonna have me passing out. I'll miss the story."

"Then I will tell you the rest tomorrow. Close your eyes." She pouted but complied. "Now, where was I? Ah yes. My Aunt Freya was the most beautiful goddess ever born to Asgard…"

***

Loki was again pouring over books when Scarlett screamed. She'd been deeply asleep, past the point of dreaming, and near to dawn when he left, a symbol on her flesh sending him seeking an old grimoire he'd long forgotten owning. He thought she would be safe for the few minutes he was away and cursed himself a fool.

He didn't bother with halls and doors but disappeared to reappear at the foot of her bed. He was just in time to watch the black shadow entity fade away and threw a hard shot of angry ice after it. 

A scream like a thousand voices fratured the air before it disappeared. 

"Fecking hell!" Scarlett thrust her hands into her hair. "Leave me be!" she screamed, yanking on her locks

"Scarlett." Loki moved around and grabbed her arms only for her to scream in agony. He wrenched back, then took her hands to pull them away from her head and found the burns. 

It was as if hands of acid had grabbed her, leaving behind oozing, red welts. "Come. Come now!" Loki urged her, trying to get her to her feet. When she moved too slowly, he scooped her out of bed, rushed out of the room and down the stairs, through the kitchen and down the stairs to the basement when he stopped before an iron door set with symbols no mortal could ever crack. 

"Livets tre og all dens magi strømme gjennom meg,*" he murmured and shoved the door open with his foot before taking Scarlett straight to the table in the middle of a set of concentric circles. "Sirkel seks og sirkel ni. Vakt. Sirkel ett og sirkel tre. Drive tilbake*" Four of the rings began to glow, and Scarlett gasped, coming out of her stupor.

"What… what?" She blinked twice then looked down at her wrists. "Morgana's wand! How?"

"What was called is most persistent," Loki murmured. "You are safe in here. I should have thought to add more protections but was overconfident that my wards would be enough. I was wrong." He turned away to get a bowl, cloth, and jar of silvery-blue powder.

"I don't understand, Loki." She continued to frown at her arms, now covered in welts.

He set the bowl in her lap and drew her arm over it. Carefully, he shook the powder over her flesh. Where it touched the acid burns, they glowed electric green and began to fade. 

"I was mistaken. I underestimated what these cretins were playing with when they performed their summoning. This is not some paltry demon. It is much, much worse."

"How much worse?"

He looked into her eyes. "They are attempting to release a world ender name Leg'loni. He was defeated and imprisoned thousands of years ago by the witches who raised my mother."

She stared at him, confusion filling her face. "How can you be sure?"

"Leg'loni was a magic eater. He attempted to destroy Vanaheim by stealing the magic of every witch living on that world. He failed and was imprisoned in Hel but not without vowing revenge. One day he would be released to destroy all the nine realms."

She switched arms without him needing to ask. "But how can you _ know _ it's this demon?"

"Because they painted his symbol on your back. I did not see it when I bathed you. You had already smeared much of that blood. I saw it through your memories. It was on the altar."

Her face paled to the point he thought she would faint, but she gritted her teeth and pressed onward. "And what was he attemptin' to do just now?"

"Leg'loni must be reborn. He would implant himself in your womb for three days, then emerge."

"E… _ emerge _? You mean tear his way out of me?"

He capped the powder and set it aside. "Yes."

Her hands shook when they lifted to his shirt, latched on, and curled into fists. "I'm… I'm gonna need a minute."

Silent tears soaked the front of his shirt, and Loki tentatively placed his hands on her back. When she pulled him forward and her arms clamped around his waist, he solidified his hold.

"I won't let that happen, Scarlett. I will find a way to rid the world of Leg'loni for good."

"If a coven of witches could na' get rid of him for good, what can you on your own do?"

He snorted at the indignity of her question. "I will forgive your ignorance this once. I am a God, not just a coven of witches. Long has it been Asgards way to banish and destroy demons. While I do not claim that it will be easy, I shall rid you of this creature."

"You're such an arrogant prick," she huffed, sitting back, face wet and red-eyed. "Just a coven. A coven is more than just power. It's a _ family._ Something I don't think you know anythin' about."

He stepped back, insulted by her claim. "Mine may not have been perfect, far from it, but Frigga loved me, Odin protected me, and Thor _ is _ my brother!

"How much did she love you after what you did?"

He jerked straight. "Your trauma makes you lash out, I understand that, but continue to speak such words about my mother, and you will regret them." He hurt enough over what occurred between himself and Frigga after his unwitting attack on New York. "We have danced around your hatred of me long enough! Tell me, what is it I did that makes you hate me? You need me, Scarlett. Tell me, or I will walk out that door right now and leave you to your fate!" He wouldn't, but he wanted an answer. "I can destroy Leg'loni as easily after his resurrection as before! So tell me what I did! What slight have I caused you, witch, to have you stare at me with such loathing?"

She glared at him, appearing small and broken, sitting with her bare feet dangling.

Loki turned to leave.

"You killed her!" Scarlett screamed. 

Loki froze. He'd killed many people that day. "I'm sorry. I was nothing but a Chitauri pawn. I knew not what I was doing." 

"A Chitauri pawn? Is that what you were when you let your chariot fly through my apartment building? When you laughed as it collapsed behind you? When a part of the ceiling fell _ on me _ and killed my baby!"

He gasped and turned around. "What?"

Fresh tears fell in ragged paths down her face. "You killed my baby. I was six months pregnant when you struck. My mam was there. Managed to keep me from bleedin' out before help arrived, but it was too late for my Emilia. Do you know how tiny a babe of six months is? _ Do you_?" she screamed. 

He was sick. Utterly heartbroken.

This? _ This _ was her secret? This was why she hated him? How could she not? 

As if his feet were made of lead, he made his way back to her and fell slowly to his knees. "There…" His voice was thick with anguish. "There is much I do not remember about that day, but if you say it was me, I believe you, Scarlett. Here." A knife appeared in his hand, and he placed it in hers. "I can only imagine the pain I've caused you. You and your husband. Strike. It is the likely reason you are here. Strike and take your revenge." He tilted his head, giving her unobstructed access to his throat. "My life for hers."

He closed his eyes, waiting for her to finish what could be the only reason she'd joined the Avengers. A flick of fingers left a letter for Thor, asking him not to hurt Scarlett. This was his decision. 

"But… Leg'loni?" she whispered.

"Wanda and Strange can stop him. All the information they need is in my study." He pulled his hair out of the way.

"You would just… just let me kill you?"

He looked up but couldn't meet her eyes. "I would move heaven and earth to take revenge on the person who hurt my child. I killed your unborn daughter. I freely give my life to you, Scarlett. The letter there will explain it to Thor. Strike hard and fast. The dagger is sharp."

The knife slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor. "You feckin,' mad, bastard! I'm not going to kill you!"

He frowned. "Why?"

"Because! Because I don't want to!" she shrieked.

"Why?" He couldn't understand it.

"I… I… I just don't!" she barked. "Great Ash, you're a weird one. You really would've let me put a knife in you? No muss, no fuss?"

"Scarlett." He carefully grabbed her ankle, her feet kicking in agitation. "I owe you a life."

"Then help me keep mine. I don't want your blood on my hands, Loki!" she hissed. "I'd never dishonour my Emilia's memory with more blood."

It wasn't enough, not in his mind. It would never be enough. "And your mate? What does he think of this?"

"I don't have one!" she huffed. "I was on a damn date, dumbass, when this all went down. I had nah planned on Emilia, and the father wanted nothin' to do with it, so I was doin' it on my own with my mam and da to help."

His heart clenched. She went through it alone. She had buried her daughter alone. The loss she must feel every day. No wonder she hated him.

He leaned his head on her knee. "I will never ask for your forgiveness. When you wish to take your anger out on me, I will never again defend myself. There is no defence to give." He swallowed thickly, then got to his feet. "You will need to stay here for approximately thirty minutes as I change and renew my wards. You are safe in the circles." A flick of fingers had a soft sleep chair appearing beside the table along with tea and a thick fur throw. "Once I finish, Leg'loni will not be able to return for you."

He left swiftly, eyes down, unable to look at her. 

What had he done?

***

*The tree of life and all its magic flows through me

*circle six and circle nine. Guard. Circle one and circle three. Repel.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Sensitive themes, possible triggering description of rape, attempted sacrifice, angst, cults, stolen magic. Dark themes. Potentially dark fic. Irish slang that may or may not be correct. Loss of a child. Thor is an ass in this (sorry if that offends)

* * *

Scarlett curled in the chair and watched the golden light slowly pulse through the circles on the floor. Some of the runes there were familiar but different, not quite the ones she knew. She wondered if the Norsemen who once worshiped Loki and his people brought their knowledge of magic to Ireland and blended it with that of the Celts to produce the magic she practiced today. 

Used to practice.

Her head lolled against the chair back as her eyes fluttered shut, blocking out the pain of loss twice over. First, her child, now her magic, it was like the Gods decided to punish her for something, what she wasn’t yet sure, but she was damn tired of being their whipping boy.

Her head pounded from crying and fighting with Loki, and from the abuse, she’d taken only hours ago. 

She couldn’t believe he’d put a knife in her hand and offered his life like that. What kind of person did that? 

Scarlett glanced at the table beside her covered in implements of the magic trade. What kind of person was Loki really? For more than a year, the other Avengers, those who fought him when he was here with the Chitauri, tried to tell her he wasn’t what she thought. He wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t evil. He wasn’t the villain she painted him. But Scarlett couldn’t see past a tiny casket nor the small fire that took her to the Goddess in hopes that Emilia’s soul would one day find its way back to Earth to try again. Scarlett could only hope that when she returned, Emilia’s new family would love her as much as she would have.

But what to think about Loki. 

And it do no harm. That was her creed. That he had come from the sky and wreaked havoc on the city, destroying lives, how could they possibly forgive him? 

Yet, they had. And he fought with them, used his magic for good. He healed on the battlefield and took blows that would kill others. And he fit in with the team.

Scarlett didn't want to see the good in him. She didn't want to know the one responsible for her child's death. She wanted to hate him, but she couldn't. 

Gods above and below! The bastard tried so damn hard! Even now, he was fighting to save someone who never gave him the time of day.

She sighed and lightly touched the edge of the bowl he'd held under her arm.

A thought passed that perhaps she could learn from Strange, take up the mystic arts, and get a semblance of her power back, but that felt false. She was a traditional witch. Spells and potions and gathering plants skyclad beneath the full moon. She was not Sling Rings and Mirror Dimensions. 

She sighed. Even without magic, she could still contribute to the team. Healing remedies, creams, lotions, and potions would still work, just without the added kick of a little magic. Maybe she could teach Wanda. After all, her knowledge wasn’t gone, only her power. 

It all hurt too much to think about now. Too raw and painful. 

A quiet _ murr _ proceeded Loki’s cat leaping into her lap, drawing Scarlett from her depressing musings. Her dark face was sweet but devious when Felicitous stared up at her with her yellow eyes. She was a fitting familiar for the God of Mischief, no matter how Loki denied it. 

“You’re a pretty thing,” Scarlett cooed, rubbing the cat’s ear and causing her heavy motor to fill the silence. “But your name is atrocious,” she chuckled. “What if I just call you Feli?”

As the cat headbutted her in the chin, Scarlett took that for agreement and cuddled her closer. “Sweet, devious Feli. The familiar of Loki,” she smiled, unable to hold onto her dower mood with a cat kneading her belly like it was bread dough.

She sighed as the cat settled down, tucked her paws under her chest and half-lidded her eyes. The loud purring was soothing, and Scarlett found herself drifting, hovering on the cusp of sleep. When the scratching sounded, she dismissed the scritch, scritch, scritch until it scraped like nails on a chalkboard and set her jolting. 

Feli stood, back arched, teeth on display, growling at the corner of the room where shadows clung. 

Trepidation streaked through Scarlett. Her heart pounded as fear; brutal cold fear climbed her spine to seize her throat. 

Something was in the room with them.

The shadow billowed forward, smoke with a mind of its own creeping closer until it touched the edge of the outermost ring and recoiled when the light flared high. It crept forward again, following the diameter as Scarlett huddled in the middle, now clinging to the angry feline. 

_ Woman… _

“Oh, hell no!” she whispered. Did it just _ talk_?

_ Your fate is sealed. You will be the vessel… _

Feli leapt from her arms, streaked across the room, and slashed claws at the smoke, but it appeared she was smart enough to know to stay inside the circle. She spat and yelled as only a cat could, hissing and clawing at whatever resided inside the evil smog.

The fog continued to roll around the circle, stopping here and there to test the golden light, but always pulling back until it completed its circuit and began to pulse and boil. It grew taller and broader, a macabre arm of pale, grey flesh marked with streaks of black and long fingers tipped in ragged black talons slowly rose from within to reach out and tap against the barrier. 

_ Human… you will obey… _

"No, I feckin won't!" Scarlett denied.

_ You are the vessel. _

"Not happening!"

Now the creature's hand pressed fully against Loki's barrier. _ I am Leg'loni, Destroyer of Worlds. You will be my rebirth. _

"Kiss off, arse demon!" Scarlett shouted and grabbed the jar of salt sitting on the table. She heaved it with all her might, sending it smashing into and over Leg'loni.

It screamed like a legion of Hell Wraiths and vanished as feet came pounding down the stairs.

"Scarlett!" Loki bellowed as he rushed into the room, glowing green and gold. He shot a bolt of ice at the shadow that missed the fleeing demon, causing ice to explode in fragments over the wall.

"Are you alright?" he asked, hurrying across the swirling gold circles.

Scarlett huddled into the back of the chair, her adrenaline receding, now causing her to shake. "Yeah," she shivered. "He, he didn't get through."

"Of course not," Loki scoffed. He reached out as if he wanted to touch her, see for himself, but quickly drew his hands back. "What did you do? How did you manage to banish him?"

"I threw a jar of salt at him. Sorry, 'bought the mess," she mumbled as Feli jumped into her lap.

Scarlett picked her up and held her high, grinning at the cat. "And you, brave beasty! Weren’t you gonna tear him a new one!" She cuddled Feli under her chin, giving her extra pets and loving. "Ferocious Feli! Yes, you are."

Loki rested against his workbench, a smirk twitching his lips. "A jar of salt?"

"Hey, it works for Sam and Dean."

He snorted. "This is not Supernatural, darling."

"Salt and Iron still work. My mam taught me so. And Da used to lay salt lines on the nights when the moors were dark and deep. I know what I'm about, Loki."

His eyes were dark and deep as he studied her. "Yes, you certainly do, little witch."

He rose suddenly and spun around to face the outer walls. Words liquid and warm rolled from his tongue in a language that pulled at her soul before he threw his hands out and sent a wave of magic rushing from him, over her, and slamming into the walls with a solid _ whump _ that echoed in her chest.

"There. I have set the house to be a virtual fortress. One way in, one way out. Not even Strange could get through those protections." 

He turned back and tentatively held out his hand. "You must be famished."

Her stomach growled. "Surprisingly," Scarlett murmured, eyeing his hand. 

He made to pull it away, but Scarlett caught the tips, surprising them both. She curled her fingers into his and accepted his assistance, finding her legs weak and pain she didn’t want to remember spiking between her legs. 

"Loki… I'm as weak as a lamb," she murmured, leaning into him, Feli clutched in one arm.

"Permit me?" he whispered, sweeping her into his arms when she nodded. 

They were on their way up the stairs, a few words closing his circles, when Loki murmured, "You're very brave."

"Hardly," she sighed. "Just stubborn." He was incredibly warm. Scarlett rested her head on his shoulder. "I don't want to die, Loki."

"You won't."

He sounded so sure, but she had the sinking suspicion it wouldn't be that easy.

***

She slept on the couch before the fireplace in his living room. It was a big stone monstrosity that would take entire trunks of trees if one wished and had drawn him in the first time he saw it. It reminded him of Asgard, of Frigga reading to him as they sat on pillows before the hearth. 

Of course, he'd had it cleaned and restored. The artisans revealed exquisite details some idiot had painted over, and now it held pride of place, flanked by refinished wooden shelving loaded with books and a few _ intriguing _artifacts he'd collected through the centuries. 

Two high-backed chairs flanked the stone facade, giving way to a blue-green sea in the rug set before it. Upon that, the hide of a massive bear stretched, the head and paws gone, but Loki retained the pelt. He still remembered well the hunt for the giant creature, its white fur blending into the snow of Asgard's frozen north, but the beast had a taste for man-flesh, and Odin was called upon to save his people. 

He sent Thor and Loki, the Warriors Three and Sif, and while Thor received the praise for felling the mighty beast, the others knew better. Thor had only stunned the creature. It was Loki who pierced it's sharp hide through and severed the primary vessel in its neck. 

At the time, he still hero-worshiped his brother. He didn't mind when Thor took the head and divided the paws between the others for Loki received the pelt, cleaned and cured. For years it resided on his bed. Now… he walked on it.

The sofa - a dark green velvet tufted wonder long and wide enough for him to stretch out on when he wished - was cast in the fire’s soft glow. Upon it lay Scarlett. Her hair like ribbons of blood upon the black sateen pillows, draped down the side of the sofa and nearly to the floor. Cream skin looked unusually pale with the bruises beneath her eyes and those that darkened her face. She slept beneath a soft cashmere throw the colour of caramel, finally comfortable and at peace. 

Loki had seen to it. 

After feeding her a breakfast of yogurt, granola, and fruit with a cream cheese slathered bagel, Loki carried her to the sofa where he’d used a little spell to put her to sleep. She needed the rest, and he took the opportunity to heal some of her more painful wounds. There was little he could do for her psyche but be there if she needed him. 

Felicitous was curled on Scarlett’s belly, her loud motor on full power. 

Loki found it interesting how a cat’s purr could cause an increase in healing. He’d seen and felt it first hand, and now again with Scarlett. It had something to do with the frequency of the vibration, but it was feline magic he’d yet to figure out. No matter how often he transformed into a cat to learn more, Loki just couldn’t grasp the concept of purring for better health. And Felicitous quite hated it when he turned into a cat and followed her around. 

Stubborn feline. If she would only share her secrets, he would stop. 

Snakes were never this difficult.

His attention drifted back to Scarlett. His guilt soured in his belly like poorly fermented mead. She’d gone willingly into his arms for him to carry her upstairs, the arms of her daughter’s killer. 

It made him wonder how many other children died at his command that day. He knew there must be many. They’d ripped through buildings and destroyed entire floors of others. He knew if he were to ask, Stark could get him the numbers, but like a coward, he couldn’t do it. 

Perhaps he should. He was responsible for all those lives; the least he could do was acknowledge them and learn their faces. He couldn’t bring them back to life, but he could carry the burden of their death as a stone around his neck until he atoned for his sin. 

Before he knew what he was about, he pulled his phone from his pocket and sent a text to Natasha. It rang seconds later.

“I sent a text for a reason, Natalia,” he sighed, rising to leave the room so as not to disturb Scarlett. 

“When you send that kind of text, I think it’s a discussion best had in person. How’s Scarlett?”

The worry in her tone made him sigh. “Resting.”

“I want to see her.”

He closed his eyes. “When she is willing to see you. There are forces at play you do not understand, nor do you have the power to deal with, Natalia,” he stated when he heard her angry inhalation.

“Then explain it to me!” she barked.

Loki pulled a bottle of wine off the rack and opened it with a wave of hand, inelegantly dumping a healthy amount into the glass that appeared. “Scarlett was targeted by a cult who want to use her to bring about the birth of a world-eating demon called Leg’loni. The demon is known to me because the witches who raised my mother were the ones who sealed him in Hel originally.”

Her silence made him smirk. “Scarlett managed to escape their clutches like the Avenger she is, but she did not do so unscathed. Her very safety depends on her staying here until I can pinpoint Leg’loni’s followers and destroy the cult and the spectral form of the demon before they can get to Scarlett. Now, might I have what I requested?”

Natasha huffed. “Seventy-four.”

Loki blinked. “What?”

“The number of casualties in the Battle for New York was seventy-four, and as far as we can tell, they were mostly due to Chitauri weapons.”

“Mostly,” he murmured, “but not all.”

“No,” she sighed, “not all. Scarlett finally told you.”

“She did.” It didn’t surprise him that she knew. There was no one better at ferreting out information than the Widow. 

Loki felt the weight of what he’d done bow his shoulders and leaned heavily against the countertop. “I killed a child. An unborn child,” he whispered, the horror of his actions heavy in his voice.

“You weren’t you, Loki,” Natasha murmured, attempting to soothe him through the phone. 

“How does that matter to Scarlett and her lost Emilia? How do I move past this? A child? Natalia… I can’t…” It felt like he couldn’t breathe, and the haze of tears flooded his eyes.

“Loki. Open the door.”

He looked up and found her standing on the deck, peering at him through the glass. “I can’t. The wards won’t allow you in that way, and Scarlett isn’t ready to see anyone.”

“I’m not here for Scarlett.”

Sadly, he shook his head at her kindness. “I cannot break her trust.” But he moved toward the window and laid his palm against it. “Thank you for the offer. I will be fine.”

Her hand mirrored his. “What happened was a horrible tragedy, Loki, but it wasn’t your fault. We all know what the Chitauri did to you. We know your history. Let Scarlett see what we see. Let her in. She will recognize what we have. You are not a monster.”

His time with the Avengers was fraught with much emotion and more talking than he’d ever indulged in. On one long night, when he and Natasha were alone and more vodka consumed than was healthy - she’d laced his with ale from Asgard - Loki spilled his proverbial guts. He’d talked more than he had in a millennium about Asgard and his life, and how poorly he’d fit in. How Thor, whom he’d loved and worshiped as his older brother, treated him with such disregard. How the Warriors Three and Lady Sif followed Thor’s lead and let him tag along but didn’t respect him or his abilities no matter he was a Prince of Asgard. How Odin, whom he’d loved, lied to him, never once letting on that Loki was the stolen son of a Jotun, a hated Jotun at that, and was nothing more than a pawn in Odin’s grand scheme. How hard he’d tried to earn his father’s love and never succeeded because he was a filthy Frost Giant, Asgard’s sworn enemy. His life was nothing but a lie, one his mother tried desperately to make up for and look where she ended up? Dead at the hand of Malekith trying to save Thor’s love, only for Thor to cast Jane aside months later. 

She’d sat through it all like a stone as he’d been more honest and open with anyone other than Frigga his whole life, and when he finished, a wet, snivelling mess, Natasha came to his side, wrapped her arms around him, and murmured how sorry she was. How terrible they’d misjudged him, and how glad she was he’d opened up. For a while now, what Thor said of Loki and Loki’s own actions were not meshing, and she was happy to finally see the truth. 

It had been the beginning of everything good for Loki and the dissolution of what was left of his relationship with Thor. Thor had Asgard now with Odin’s passing, but Loki had Earth. He had the Avengers. He had a life he enjoyed thanks to them.

The glass was cold against his forehead, the tears hot on his cheeks. “How strange is it that _ you _ are my best friend when I took yours from you?”

Her fist hit the glass his forehead rested against. “Clint’s fine, you ass! And that wasn’t you. No one blames you!”

“I blame me,” he whispered, finally looking into her eyes. “Go home, Natalia. I will call when Scarlett allows visitors.” He hung up but didn’t move away from the window as she glared at him and mouthed _ I hate you for making me do this. _Then she was typing away at her phone before smirking at him and walking away. 

His phone pinged, and Loki looked down, a smile lightening some of the weight on his heart. 

How he adored that spider.

She’d sent him a virtual hug. 


End file.
